Five Times Lucas Kissed Skye
by Jemmz
Summary: And one time he didn't. Slight AU moments/missing scenes.
1. Euphoria

**Five Times Lucas Kissed Skye (and One Time He Didn't)**

One: Euphoria

It was almost by instinct, or by child-like elation, that he was drawn to her as soon as she entered the tent. Grabbing that fantastic head of hers, those perfect lips, he pressed his mouth on to hers, causing her to jump back and recoil with fright. But he refused to release her, having enjoyed the foreign presence of a girl's lips against his lips, especially those as soft and desirable as Skye's; the girl who had made this all possible.

"I did it," he babbled, closing his eyes, nestling his head against hers. "And it's all because of you. Thank you, Bucket."

His hot breath lingered on her lips for a few moments, and he could feel her tremble beneath him. She didn't squirm, but he held her so intensely, as if she might try to escape from his grasp. His hands were pressed tightly over her ears, muffling his mad rants of revenge, and then his piercing green eyes met hers, sending shockwaves down her spine.

He stared at her for a few moments, his gaze so intense she wasn't sure whether he was going to kiss her again or strike her across the face. He eyed her lips, his dark eyes sailing down slowly. She swallowed and his gloved hands drifted through her hair, his fingers tangling between the soft curls. He savoured the sensations, the smells. He inhaled her, her natural scent tingling his nostrils, filling up his lungs. She smelt like the trees and the flowers and the fresh grass that surrounded them. He wanted more; more of this euphoria. But he had to go; the last stages of his plan were finally in motion.

"Goodbye, Bucket," he whispered, his voice heating up her ears. "Perhaps I'll see you again," and then he left, leaving her to catch her breath and scrub frantically at the ghost of his kiss on her lips.


	2. Everything Changes

Two: Everything Changes

Lucas was true to his word.

The fight hadn't lasted long at all, but the carnage left by the devastating battle was sure to remain with the people of Terra Nova for a long time to come. After the screams of torture and the sound of explosions had ceased, Skye emerged from her hiding place, realising how peaceful the silence could be.

A wave of shock and devastation shot through the colony. Terra Nova was no longer recognisable. Rubble and bodies scattered the floor, the remains of a brutal and savage battle. Lieutenant Washington knelt on the ground beside many other of Taylor's soldiers, guns aimed at their heads, their hands up in surrender.

"No," Skye muttered, her eyes wide with horror, and then she noticed the rover pull up through the gates. It stopped in front of the large crowd and a familiar young man stepped out, a smug grin painted across his stubbled face. He was elated at the sight. Looking around gleefully, in an almost child-like manner, he clapped his hands together and laughed manically.

"This is beautiful," Lucas jeered, sweeping a hand through his hair as the colony fell silent and circled around him, their faces full of hatred and fear. Nobody dared make a move, or utter a single word, for fear of the armed soldiers who stood behind Commander Taylor's son.

Lucas bounded over to what remained of the steps leading to his father's office and addressed the crowd with jubilation. Skye felt her muscles tense, the mere sight of him made her chest tighten. She prayed he wouldn't see her.

"People of Terra Nova," he began, mirth in his voice, "a new era has begun! Your colony," he added, showing off a twisted grin, "is under new management. Where is your precious Commander now, huh? The all-seeing, all-powerful man you blind fools put all your faith in to? He's fled, like the coward he is! Your leader has abandoned you." Skye noted the anger weave in to his speech, the traces of bitterness in his voice. "Today is the day you realise how it feels to have someone you're supposed to trust_ reject_ you at a time you need him the most." He paused a beat, and then the smile appeared again. "Today is the day everything changes."

His speech came to a close, and his dark eyes caught sight of Skye. She glanced away immediately, her heart convulsing inside her chest. But it was too late. As the crowd slowly began to disperse, Lucas climbed down from his newly-acquired throne and swaggered towards her, his very being drenched with all the power and intimidation of a man who was truly unstoppable.

"Bucket," he said, his voice caught between disappointment and relief. "You're here." He stopped in front of her.

She crossed her arms, her jaw stiffening. "Of course I'm here," she breathed, her heart beating in her ears. "This is my home."

"You're the one who told my father we were coming," he surmised, although he seemed too drunk on his success to be annoyed by her betrayal. "I warned you this would happen."

Skye said nothing and tried to ignore how intensely he was looking at her, how much that smug grin made her want to smack him and run for her life. He merely chuckled at her indifference and shook his head, the smile gradually vanishing as he lifted his eyes to observe the destruction he had caused.

"I told you not to come here, Bucket, and for your sake I wish you had listened to me," he told her, turning his face back towards her. He paused a beat, watching her scowl at him. "Because your so-called home is never going to be the same again."

She gnawed on her lip, narrowing her eyes at him. She watched as he stepped closer, felt her palms sweat as he brushed his thumb over her lower lip, causing her mouth to open slightly. She felt her insides twist in to knots, screaming internally, as he leant his face towards hers, making her gasp. And then she felt his lips on her cheek, lingering a few moments, the stubble on his face prickling her skin as he kissed her.

"I'll talk to you again soon," he breathed in her ear. "There's something we need to discuss, and right now I have many things I need to tend to."

She frowned and scarcely breathed until he had stepped back from her. When he finally walked away, she felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from her chest, the sweet air of freedom filling her lungs once again.

Her eyes then focused on Josh who was approaching her. His solemn frown indicated that he was coming over to see if she was okay, but on further inspection she could see that his eyes were pink and moist with tears.

"Josh? What is it?"

"Kara," he croaked in return, a fat tear rolling down his cheek. "She's dead."

Dread filtered through her and she suddenly felt like sobbing with him. Embracing Josh, she glanced again into the direction Lucas had slunk off to and feared just what other atrocities he was capable of.


	3. Destroying Something Beautiful

Three: Destroying Something Beautiful

He had told her to stay away. It was her own fault she hadn't listened. But in a sense, as he observed her pretty mouth and freckled nose from across the table in Boylan's bar, he was glad that she was here.

"You're so beautiful," he told her, mesmerised. Her angelic features beckoned him and he readjusted himself in his seat in order to lean forward and touch her.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like a child again, hypnotised by something pretty. He paused, suddenly recalling a tinier, more innocent version of himself, enthralled by the pretty things of the world; chasing insects that intrigued him with their glow, their complex patterns, their perfect symmetry. But having had his childhood cruelly snatched from him, he had forgotten how to handle such creatures. Instead, they would crumble in his hands, dead, destroyed. And his younger self would mourn the loss and not understand why the beautiful things had turned against him, why everything he touched seemed to crumble in his hands.

But as always, he couldn't help himself when he saw something desirable, something he wanted. So he touched her face, felt her warmth, her softness. Because he could. He tried to be gentle, but she looked pained, disturbed.

"Lucas, stop."

He ignored her. He just wanted to look at her a while longer, to have something beautiful in his life, and enjoy the sensation of her silky cheeks against his fingertips.

"Lucas," she said again, pulling his hand away. But instead of backing off, he laced his fingers through hers. He held her hand tightly, refusing to let go. He couldn't. And then he guided it up to his lips, hovered over her slender fingers, and kissed them. She sat frozen to her chair and watched, unnerved, as his lips circled around her knuckles, making her joints go weak. His eyes closed, savouring the feeling, when he felt a tap on his shoulder and the explosion of pain as something hard smashed in to his skull, causing him to release Skye and collapse on to the floor.

"Josh!" he heard his female companion shout as he felt another beating come his way. A shot to the face, and another, and he was sprawled out on to the floor. Dazed, he looked up to see the Shannon boy being restrained, his fists waving in the air and his face full of fury. Lucas wobbled to his feet, recovering from the blows, blind anger overcoming him. And then he saw Skye's blurred figure by the steps, torn from him, her angelic features distorted. His eyes focused on Josh, his vision gradually returning. Skye watched with panic and as Lucas struck back, she screamed his name, begging him to stop.

He didn't care. He felt like destroying something beautiful. And so he picked up his bruised fist, and let Josh crumble.


	4. Longest Kiss of Her Life

Four: Longest Kiss of Her Life

"Please don't hurt them," Skye pleaded with Lucas as she followed him out of Boylan's bar, the cold night air hitting her face and making her tremble more than her fear of Josh getting hurt because of her.

Lucas turned around suddenly, fury burning in his eyes. "My apologies, dear sister, but thanks to you running off to get Papa Shannon it seems I have to enforce some disciplinary action." He touched the tender side of his face, the swelling already beginning to form underneath his eye. "People around here need to learn some damn respect," he spat, losing his temper.

"Josh only did it for me," she said desperately, shivering in the shadows. "Please. He's my friend. He was trying to help me."

Her choice of words only seemed to make him angrier, his lip curling, as if he honestly hadn't intended to create a situation where she needed to be 'saved'.

"Please, Lucas," she repeated. "Let him go. For me. I promise he won't be any more trouble."

Lucas raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest in the process. He stared at her a few agonising moments, and then spoke again: "Alright, Bucket. I'll let Young Shannon go, and I'll forgive you." She was halfway through breathing a sigh of relief when he interrupted. "In exchange for a kiss."

"What?"

He smiled chillingly at her. "You heard me. A kiss; a real kiss. With you. Now."

"I…I can't kiss you," she replied quietly, for more reasons than she cared to admit. The mere thought of it made her stomach twist, made her want to vomit as if it _were_ her brother who was suggesting such a thing.

He was looking at her again, with that look that only seemed to be reserved for her. He smirked, longing in his green eyes. "That's the deal," he said, moving closer to her.

She swallowed hard, considering the deed. She saw the wildness in Lucas' eyes, remembered the way he had battered Josh half to death. She couldn't let Josh suffer any more for her. Lucas would kill him. Sighing, she tilted her head back to meet his tall frame. "And you won't hurt him?" she clarified, attempting to sound authoritative.

He bowed his head mockingly, letting his arms fall by his sides. "You have my word."

She cleared her throat in response, pursing her lips together as she moved close to Lucas, preparing herself. He watched with relish as her lips gradually parted, leaning in slowly, her eyes squeezing shut so she couldn't see that arrogant gaze of his, full of cockiness, full of lust…

She guessed he must have leaned in too because she suddenly felt his cut lips touch hers, making her heart jump. He was warm, despite the brisk weather, and surprisingly gentle at first. But then he deepened the kiss, his mouth opening a little more, taking turns sucking each lip. His scraped hand snaked behind her ear, stroking it, tangling the rest of his fingers in her long hair. Skye refused to move, her palms moistening by her sides as she stood stiffly, rooted to the ground, wishing for it to be over soon. But this was turning out to be the longest kiss of her life as seconds turned to minutes and she waited impatiently for Lucas to release her.

He was starting to get rough again, pulling her closer to him, pushing his mouth on to hers so that she could taste the blood that remained on his cut lip, could feel his tongue fighting to enter her mouth. At that point, she turned her head so that his lips clumsily collided with her cheek. "Okay, that's enough," she snapped, breathing heavily as he slowly pulled away from her and let her go.

However, his stubbled grin confirmed that he was satisfied. "Okay," he said after several beats of silence, in which time Skye had noticed he hadn't looked away once, had hardly blinked at all. "A deal's a deal." He stepped away from her, beginning to walk back towards the Brig.

"Wait," she called after him, still unnerved by what she had just experienced. "I'm coming with you." He raised an eyebrow, but before he could get too cocky, she approached his side, her frown deepening. "I want to make sure you live up to your word."

"Bucket," he murmured, pretending to be hurt. "Don't you trust me?" She scowled at him. "I wouldn't let you kiss me for nothing," he sniggered, and then gave her a shrug. "As you wish."

He led the way, and she paused before following – hesitating, feeling her heart pound, as if she were following the devil himself on the way to Hell.


	5. Two Sides of the Same Coin

Five: Two Sides of the Same Coin

Ever since their meeting, Lucas had been overwhelmed with fantasies of Skye Tate. The only time he thought about anything else was when he thought of his father, and how he was going to destroy him. He had hardly slept the night before, and that wasn't just because he had spent until the early hours of the morning tracking down that wretched Shannon family, but the image of Skye kept him awake, made his genius brain whir with excitement, and his aching body throb with yearning.

They were two sides of the same coin, he and Skye. Both traitors; outcasts. Both unable to earn the forgiveness of one single man who had rejected them without the slightest twinge of remorse. Because nothing was more precious to the Commander than his own superiority, than his own pride; than his own beloved Terra Nova, a symbol of everything Lucas had come to resent.

And this was why Skye was next to him now as they sat together in the rover, waiting. Waiting for the sweet act of revenge that would finally set them free. The vengeful flash in her eyes was recognisable. It lured him to her, made him burn inside. He stared at her in the passenger seat. Her lips were slightly parted. Tiny freckles decorated her nose, and those eyes – they held as much fury as his did.

He leant towards her and ran his stained hand down her feathery cheek, causing her muscles to tense. "You are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he admitted truthfully, his voice almost inaudible as he moved his face closer to hers. He wasn't to know the proper way in which to treat a girl, having grown up ignoring every piece of advice his father had given him for the past ten years, but in his way this was strangely appropriate. Because he didn't care what the proper way was. Because he wanted her, because she was beautiful, and because there was nothing stopping him.

She held her breath, her eyes wide with fright as his opened lips met hers. She felt his stubble poke her skin, the tear on his lower lip, and then as he deepened the kiss, slipped his warm tongue in to her mouth, she could taste the metallically tang of his blood. But she sat there motionless, her back pressed hard against the door of the vehicle, the handle pushing deep in to her spine.

She tried to speak, tried to say his name, but she couldn't utter a word as Lucas' lips crushed against hers, his tongue motioning inside her, massaging every corner of her mouth. She hardly moved her head as his hands secured her against him, holding her face close to his. And then he retreated from inside and planted kisses on her cheeks, her eyelids, and on both corners of her mouth, leaving hot, wet patches covering her skin.

As he travelled down to her neck, a soft moan escaped his lips, and she felt her body begin to sweat and weaken. She was growing hot and restless with each passing moment, drowning in his touch, his scent. She inhaled sharply.

"Lucas," she warned, pulling her face away. But she hadn't sounded as threatening as she had hoped. She attempted to speak again but found herself breathless as Lucas hovered over her lips once again, his nose brushing against her nose, his forehead resting against her forehead.

"We'll finish him," he breathed, his fingers gliding down her face again. "Together."

She shuddered, and then she was suddenly aware of Mark Reynolds standing behind Lucas, pointing a gun straight at his head. Lucas sat up in the driver's seat, grunting under his breath as he raised his hands in the air.

"You okay, Skye?" Mark asked her from outside the vehicle. Skye nodded, glancing apprehensively at Lucas' betrayed scowl.

"I'm fine," she answered, although she felt sick as she glared back at the Commander's son, the lips that had been upon her body moments before gradually twisting in to an ironic sort of smirk.

"I'm disappointed in you, Bucket," he told her, relishing the discomfort he was causing her. "We could have been unstoppable together."

"Don't ever touch me again," she scolded, frowning, before opening the door of the vehicle and finally escaping his penetrating gaze.


	6. And One Time He Didn't

And One Time He Didn't

The cold chill of the night air made Skye curl up as tightly as she could in her bed, pulling the covers over her shoulders. She shivered uncontrollably, feeling as though she might cry.

It had been days since she had shot Lucas – twice – and consequently saved the Commander's life. Three days to be exact, in which time she had hardly thought of anything else. She kept replaying the expression of anguish in his face, the limp way his body fell after the last bullet pierced his flesh. She had never shot anybody before and the initial feeling of adrenaline and exhilaration had quickly settled in to an overwhelming sense of guilt and disgust at herself.

Taylor insisted that she hadn't had a choice. Her actions had saved him and therefore saved the colony. But still, on a cold night like this, Skye wondered where Lucas could have gone – if he had retreated back to the Sixers or if he were even still alive at all.

She turned over on the mattress, holding herself, questioning why on earth she cared what happened to that miserable creature, when she heard a creak from the floorboards outside. She held her breath in panic, her heart stopping.

"Who's there?" she dared to ask, trying to mask the fear in her voice. She questioned who could be wondering around at this time of night.

Another creak and she bolted upright, her pulse suddenly racing. The noises came closer until she was watching her door slowly open. She was frozen. Her mouth ran dry, and then she recognised the dark figure who was entering her bedroom. He emerged from the shadows, shuffling across her floor, his expression deadpan; unreadable.

"Lucas," she gasped, her whole body stiffening. She was speechless, too overcome by the horror his presence brought to form any word other than his name. Instead, she stuttered helplessly, terrified as he approached her.

"Shh," he said gently, and she was terrified as he climbed on to the mattress, leaning over her trembling form. It was then she realised that his shirt was unbuttoned, revealing the smooth torso beneath it. Her eyes were drawn there, but not only because she was curious what his body looked like beneath those old, ragged clothes. What concerned her was the fact his muscular build bore no scars, no wounds from the gunshots three days ago. She couldn't understand it.

She swallowed, reached out to his chest without thinking. "Lucas, your wounds –"

"It's okay," he whispered, his expression soft and comforting for a change. She was suddenly aware of how much younger he looked, how kind his emerald eyes could be, how sweet and pleasant his smile was. In another time, in another place maybe, she may have considered Lucas Taylor to be quite beautiful. He leant closer, the heat from his warm body defrosting hers, and he ran his fingers gently across her face.

She closed her eyes slowly, finding his touch actually quite pleasing. "Lucas," she whispered, her voice trembling, unsure how to react, unsure of her feelings.

"Everything's okay," he assured her, taking her hand. She sunk down in to her mattress, feeling Lucas' hot breath against her skin and his body pressed against her, warming her. Her eyes were still closed when he brushed the loose hairs away from her face, circled his finger along her forehead. And then his lips lingered by hers, pausing for a second, letting the anticipation swell inside her a moment longer.

And then, finally, he leant in to kiss her. Slowly, gently. She couldn't breathe, but it was in a pleasant sort of way, and it was at that moment she realised she wasn't fighting back, but in fact, she was kissing him in return. Slowly, gently, lovingly. He repositioned himself on top of her, making sure not to hurt her, holding her cheeks in his hands, stroking the skin above her eyelids.

She couldn't understand it, but she was experiencing sensations she never even knew existed. And this, she thought, was probably why she was increasing their pace, running her hands across his hardened chest, why she was pulling his shirt down past his arms and then pressing him closer to her.

Her eyes fluttered open, deep in this newly discovered euphoria, when Lucas disappeared.

She woke up, her heart and body throbbing and aching. She raised a trembling hand to her lips, missing Lucas' touch, the presence of his body pushed up against hers. And then she collapsed back in to her covers again, releasing a frustrated groan, and once again feeling the bite of the evening's chill.


End file.
